tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-92088901238228211292018-03-05T23:57:58.737-06:00Late BloomersGrowing for the Next GenerationCarla Jaquetnoreply@blogger.comBlogger28125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-76626938724374215172012-11-19T10:52:00.000-06:002012-11-19T10:52:04.214-06:00Giving Thanks<span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">With the Thanksgiving holiday just a skip away those things I am grateful for are frequently in my thoughts. Rather than list off dozens of people and experiences that have enriched my life I’ll leave you with a quote…</span><br /> <div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;Georgia&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;Georgia&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">"Let us be grateful to people who make us happy; they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom." - Marcel Proust <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;Georgia&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: &quot;Georgia&quot;,&quot;serif&quot;; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I am so very thankful for all of the charming gardeners in my life. &nbsp;<o:p></o:p></span></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s5Mt0YgBsrA/UKhn_tNCSFI/AAAAAAAAAi4/1cl5aIkTBVM/s1600/Pumpkin+Planting+Time.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="157" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s5Mt0YgBsrA/UKhn_tNCSFI/AAAAAAAAAi4/1cl5aIkTBVM/s200/Pumpkin+Planting+Time.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Start of the Growing Season&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dKg0BqsOrwQ/UKhogbVy7II/AAAAAAAAAjA/A1oSEfviTr4/s1600/Headed+for+the+Field.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dKg0BqsOrwQ/UKhogbVy7II/AAAAAAAAAjA/A1oSEfviTr4/s400/Headed+for+the+Field.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready for the Field&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lwT-AVbqJbk/UKhpCwNxqNI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/db3CymB4k_I/s1600/Corey+Watering+Pumpkins+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lwT-AVbqJbk/UKhpCwNxqNI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/db3CymB4k_I/s400/Corey+Watering+Pumpkins+2012.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Boss" Watering His Crops</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG2Kfr7So6I/UKho3D7SJPI/AAAAAAAAAjI/H6B2a2mI7rI/s1600/Corey+&amp;+Mom+-+hoe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GG2Kfr7So6I/UKho3D7SJPI/AAAAAAAAAjI/H6B2a2mI7rI/s400/Corey+&amp;+Mom+-+hoe.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Field Work</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91J2_3XNDhw/UKhpU1Vl8OI/AAAAAAAAAjg/_U0Ce9E2PcU/s1600/profile+pic+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="568" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-91J2_3XNDhw/UKhpU1Vl8OI/AAAAAAAAAjg/_U0Ce9E2PcU/s640/profile+pic+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Learning About&nbsp;Pollination&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aimv-x1nLUs/UKhpG7bzk7I/AAAAAAAAAjY/oOO-vf7g_68/s1600/Corey's+Pumpkin+Patch+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="217" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-aimv-x1nLUs/UKhpG7bzk7I/AAAAAAAAAjY/oOO-vf7g_68/s400/Corey's+Pumpkin+Patch+2012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corey's Field of Pumpkins&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N-ZNWRG3FX0/UKpfjynqaTI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/3sWGHAnZk8k/s1600/Blue+Ribbon+Boy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="148" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-N-ZNWRG3FX0/UKpfjynqaTI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/3sWGHAnZk8k/s200/Blue+Ribbon+Boy.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prize Winning Pumpkins</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LVILW6d1WYw/UKphOGYK-_I/AAAAAAAAAkg/we6x1tnbr2k/s1600/Sold!.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="133" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LVILW6d1WYw/UKphOGYK-_I/AAAAAAAAAkg/we6x1tnbr2k/s200/Sold!.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Market Day</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfYo5W9OnyY/UKhnb61_jkI/AAAAAAAAAiw/j2VKzruog4g/s1600/Farmer+Corey+2012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nfYo5W9OnyY/UKhnb61_jkI/AAAAAAAAAiw/j2VKzruog4g/s640/Farmer+Corey+2012.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Farmer Corey</td></tr></tbody></table></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-18742972706666491962012-05-02T00:04:00.000-05:002012-05-02T00:05:42.311-05:00Baking Day<br /><div class="MsoNormal">I like to peek at the blog’s stats and see where our readers are from and how they find us. Many are friends and acquaintances who share a kinship through loving a child who has special needs. There’s also family (thanks Mom), and intermittent visitors, some who search key words or stumble on the site purely by accident. Then there’s the “tracking” sights out there, cruising for blogs that would be a good fit for advertising.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">I had to chuckle recently when I clicked on the URL for one such site and read what it was they gathered of us. It said, “carlaslatebloomers.blogspot.com, insufficient data for identification.” Yup, that’s me, a little of this and a little of that… my blog an electronic journal of arbitrary thoughts and experiences, all neatly tied by a common thread the “trackers” cannot see. I suppose their insufficient data means I fly under the radar. I think I kind of like that.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p2tzVHiGEFM/T6CzGFz1o0I/AAAAAAAAAhU/vEKjCiYef-A/s1600/000_0002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="272" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-p2tzVHiGEFM/T6CzGFz1o0I/AAAAAAAAAhU/vEKjCiYef-A/s320/000_0002.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">*Note the rather large bulge in his left pocket?<br />Only the best bakers carry their favorite trains to work.</td></tr></tbody></table>Today the boss and I researched and baked; our initial plan of a day at the farm dampened by Mother Nature’s confused interpretation of this year’s spring.<br /><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9y0jgzw_Q1s/T6CzgayRfYI/AAAAAAAAAhk/iHfxftbNysw/s1600/000_0004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="260" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9y0jgzw_Q1s/T6CzgayRfYI/AAAAAAAAAhk/iHfxftbNysw/s320/000_0004.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Oh no, keep your peepers open for the pics Chef Corey!</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7q9pf3S-wKk/T6CzwGDuEGI/AAAAAAAAAhs/_52wsa-bKRA/s1600/000_0005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7q9pf3S-wKk/T6CzwGDuEGI/AAAAAAAAAhs/_52wsa-bKRA/s320/000_0005.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Like this?</td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2mYa469I9o/T6CzR9w2N_I/AAAAAAAAAhc/RzdpPWmR0J8/s1600/000_0003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e2mYa469I9o/T6CzR9w2N_I/AAAAAAAAAhc/RzdpPWmR0J8/s320/000_0003.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Are they ready yet?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHLsJAHLg5U/T6Cy-qwbxEI/AAAAAAAAAhM/_42p2d6yQ44/s1600/000_0001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="545" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHLsJAHLg5U/T6Cy-qwbxEI/AAAAAAAAAhM/_42p2d6yQ44/s640/000_0001.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; text-align: center;">Ginormous blueberry muffin success!</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-42155715582372837642012-04-11T00:21:00.000-05:002012-04-11T00:34:57.879-05:00Stay Tuned<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yqFp0D687Aw/T4UQHuxtd7I/AAAAAAAAAhE/DTb_bzqPBdU/s1600/Zoey+Easter+5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yqFp0D687Aw/T4UQHuxtd7I/AAAAAAAAAhE/DTb_bzqPBdU/s400/Zoey+Easter+5.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Zoey Ann Our Spring Blossom&nbsp;</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br /><br /><br />Oh my we’ve been busy bees. Teaching, prepping gardens, transplanting, and welcoming the first of our next generation… Ah yes, we became grandparents on the first day of spring. </div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5dyKp_VA8qA/T4UPyf0WBeI/AAAAAAAAAg0/Dk79Ns-XRjo/s1600/Easter+2012+Dom+&amp;+Owen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5dyKp_VA8qA/T4UPyf0WBeI/AAAAAAAAAg0/Dk79Ns-XRjo/s400/Easter+2012+Dom+&amp;+Owen.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dominic and Owen</td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j2aPNdFyaCQ/T4UPzdDs_WI/AAAAAAAAAg8/dD8zqZr0HFI/s1600/Easter+2012+Ellie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-j2aPNdFyaCQ/T4UPzdDs_WI/AAAAAAAAAg8/dD8zqZr0HFI/s640/Easter+2012+Ellie.jpg" width="451" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ellie May</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Stay tuned as I’ll be back but until then a few spring photos of our young ones. The motivation behind what we do... the next generation.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />May peace follow you where ever you go,Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-13289454023754032272012-03-28T23:31:00.000-05:002012-03-28T23:31:19.240-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WSWeBhL1eCM/T3PZU373j5I/AAAAAAAAAfk/pLpi_xZdXr0/s1600/Zoey+1+wk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WSWeBhL1eCM/T3PZU373j5I/AAAAAAAAAfk/pLpi_xZdXr0/s1600/Zoey+1+wk.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-25160210420929403232012-03-16T09:59:00.001-05:002012-03-16T14:16:35.129-05:00March Winds<div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lsDeRvah1kc/T2NT5KB7GHI/AAAAAAAAAfU/To49DZNRijE/s1600/lamb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lsDeRvah1kc/T2NT5KB7GHI/AAAAAAAAAfU/To49DZNRijE/s320/lamb.jpg" width="212" /></a>“March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb” is a traditional rhyme that teaches young children about the seasons. More often than not, March is primarily blustery and cold with brief glimpses of warm weather to come, but this year Mother Nature has decided to supply us with never ending sunshine and unseasonably mild conditions. On March 1, 2012 we experienced a high temperature of 39 and a low of 33 degrees. March 15<sup>th</sup> followed with record highs in northwest Illinois and temperatures reaching 80 degrees.&nbsp; This revealed farmers and gardeners alike teetering between bliss, at their good fortune in being able to work the soil early, and concern at the possibility of a hot, dry growing season. &nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">We’re not getting too excited here about early planting. I’ve seen far too many springs where gardeners (myself included) have prematurely put out tender crops and annual flowers only to find themselves scrambling to cover everything, when nature reminds us with a late frost as to who’s still in control. We are however taking advantage of clear, warm days by prepping the greenhouse, clearing debris, tilling, and staking out where we will be planting. On deck is spring cleaning the chicken houses and prepping the brooder house for chicks slated to arrive the first of April. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">We've&nbsp;been (un)patiently awaiting the arrival of the first of the next generation to join us. She was not coaxed by lore of babes arriving with the full moon and has ignored her due date of March 15<sup>th</sup>. Corey is convinced she’ll make her arrival on St. Patrick’s Day and has me searching for the perfect green shirt for him to sport and a yummy and festive cupcake recipe as he says, “We’ll party!” I’ve been full of predictions of when we’ll finally meet Zoey and as my daughter has pointed out to me, none have held true.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">We shall see… may be she’s waiting for the first day of spring.</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-13414376789499744072012-02-29T16:59:00.003-06:002012-02-29T18:54:09.319-06:00Value Added<div style="text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3WqPYIypBF0/T06kRuQIgHI/AAAAAAAAAfM/FZ_w3WOmAHk/s1600/pumpkin+harvest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3WqPYIypBF0/T06kRuQIgHI/AAAAAAAAAfM/FZ_w3WOmAHk/s400/pumpkin+harvest.jpg" width="330" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Small farm&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">enterprises&nbsp;</span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">are often found exploring alternative marketing strategies and new prospects for diversification that will enlighten customers as to the multitude of goods that can be traced back to the farm and increase sales. In the world of market farming, items such textiles, soaps and lotions, fresh flowers, jams and jellies and baked goods are among the many products that fall under the heading of “value added”. These goods increase farmers’ customer base and the apparent value of existing agricultural products, adding to income and farm profitability. </span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Iowa has for some time had a Cottage Law which allows its people to operate a home based bakery or food processing business, this however has only recently blossomed in its neighbor state of Illinois. In Illinois </span><a href="http://www.ilga.gov/legislation/billstatus.asp?DocNum=840&amp;GAID=11&amp;GA=97&amp;DocTypeID=SB&amp;LegID=55671&amp;SessionID=84" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Senate Bill 840</a><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">, the Illinois Local Food Entrepreneur and Cottage Food Operation Act, or better known as the Cottage Food Bill was passed as an effort to support the growing local food movement that has taken root across the nation.&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">On January 1, 2012 the law officially went into effect, opening doors of opportunity to small farm&nbsp;</span></span><span style="line-height: 18px;">entrepreneurs</span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">&nbsp;</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">for ways to grow their business.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For this late bloomer the passing of the Cottage Food Bill felt like a gift from Illinois state officials. With Wild Hare Farm still in the stages of infancy I knew that our goal to test the farm market scene this season would find us scrambling for enough crops to make our efforts profitable. Now there will be delightful Corey cakes, yummy cookies, and tasty treats that make use of local farm ingredients in their creation. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Pumpkin Farmer Corey has delightedly added head baker to his titles. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">For more information about on farm enterprises and value added products visit the USDA Alternative Farming Systems Information Center at:&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://afsic.nal.usda.gov/alternative-marketing-and-business-practices/farm-enterprises-and-value-added-products">http://afsic.nal.usda.gov/alternative-marketing-and-business-practices/farm-enterprises-and-value-added-products</a> <span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-13793162357499868502012-02-16T11:02:00.006-06:002012-02-16T14:02:59.872-06:00Corey Cakes<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G0gtcZYe6o8/Tz0vVxOiNAI/AAAAAAAAAe8/ZpOLBfuVQxs/s1600/pink+icing+cupcakes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G0gtcZYe6o8/Tz0vVxOiNAI/AAAAAAAAAe8/ZpOLBfuVQxs/s320/pink+icing+cupcakes.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Corey's Valentine Cakes turned out much like this <br />using Wilton's 1M star tip.</td></tr></tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal">The boss has decided to add cake baker to his resume so&nbsp;we've&nbsp;been baking up a storm these days. Corey’s very particular about not just the flavor but also the appearance of his creations and thus has his second in command hunting for web sites and recipes that match his abilities as well as creative prerequisites. We’re quite the comic pair, standing in the cake decorator section of the local store, debating which new doodads should be added to his bag of tricks. The most recent additions of his tools are Wilton’s (230) Bismarck tip and 1M star tip,&nbsp;allowing for yummy cream filled delights and easy, yet pretty toppings.&nbsp;<span style="text-align: left;">This week, in honor of Valentine’s Day, Corey chose red velvet cupcakes with a marshmallow fluff filling and pink icing as a topper. They were a big hit with his favorite taste tester(s) himself, err I mean Dad and the boys. <grin></grin></span><span style="text-align: left;">&nbsp;</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="text-align: left;">Today&nbsp;I've&nbsp;convinced him to try his hand at truffles. Cake truffles are pretty simple in design and a perfect fit for Baker Corey. We’ll let you know how they turn out!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Chocolate Cake Truffle Recipe:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x7IOZZfQWmQ/Tz0vedaJU3I/AAAAAAAAAfE/ouiBceJWpoM/s1600/chocolate+truffles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x7IOZZfQWmQ/Tz0vedaJU3I/AAAAAAAAAfE/ouiBceJWpoM/s320/chocolate+truffles.jpg" width="212" /></a>1 choclate cake mix - prepared according directions and cooled<br />1 /2 cup homemade butter cream frosting <br /><br />Once your cake has cooled, crumble into a large bowl. Add 1/2 cup of &nbsp;frosting to the crumbled cake and gently fold in to mix ingredients. You’ll want the end result to be slightly dry but moist enough to hold together when formed into a ball. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Next, with a small scoop, begin scooping the cake/frosting mixture and then rolling it into a ball. Place the cake balls on a parchment lined cookie sheet and pop into the freezer for at least an hour so they are easy to handle and don’t fall apart when dipping. <br />Makes about 3 dozen truffles.&nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Chocolate Coating and Decorating:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">20 oz. chocolate flavored almond bark melted according to directions on package</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dip cake balls in almond bark and place on a parchment lined cookie sheets to be decorated any way you like.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">Corey and I chose to thin down a little left over butter cream frosting so we can swirl a pretty design on top and then add Valentine colored cake sprinkles. &nbsp;</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal">As always, Corey’s creations are made with eggs fresh from the farm!</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-49533352249796369682012-02-08T14:00:00.002-06:002012-02-08T15:00:26.458-06:00Milestones<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wZIBxZbojTw/TzKKLPTDuXI/AAAAAAAAAec/rLOfYzeM9ns/s1600/Panthers+State+3rd+Place.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wZIBxZbojTw/TzKKLPTDuXI/AAAAAAAAAec/rLOfYzeM9ns/s1600/Panthers+State+3rd+Place.jpg" /></a><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXRsnhMxPc8/TzKKS3uQexI/AAAAAAAAAek/s49qgQMOLH4/s1600/Ryne+13th+Birthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dXRsnhMxPc8/TzKKS3uQexI/AAAAAAAAAek/s49qgQMOLH4/s320/Ryne+13th+Birthday.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">2011 was a milestone year for our family. Within days of graduation, our middle, Jordan's high school baseball team made small town history by placing 3rd in the state baseball finals.&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Ryne, our youngest, became a teen and although since his promotion to middle school he has been committed to to passing his eldest brother in the birth order line - up, Corey remains equally dedicated to&nbsp;maintaining his status. This is a sibling &nbsp;phenomenon that continues to mystify me as once Jordan passed Corey is size he rather naturally recognized him as his *big* brother. Not so easy for our Rye, at almost 5'10" he now towers over his 5'2" (big) brother, who still prefers a relaxing afternoon of Disney movies to matters more typical of an "average" twenty-three year old, and yet we continue to hear an almost daily profession from Corey that he is "the boss". At this stage in the game I'm beginning to wonder if even once he reaches 6'2" whether Ryne will remain, the "baby" brother. &nbsp; &nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLGwNOpuLgc/TzKGs5Sd-pI/AAAAAAAAAeU/TFiwPk2gI7U/s1600/Wedding+Dad+&amp;+Corey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="204" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WLGwNOpuLgc/TzKGs5Sd-pI/AAAAAAAAAeU/TFiwPk2gI7U/s320/Wedding+Dad+&amp;+Corey.jpg" width="320" /></a>Our eldest and only daughter, Chelsea, was walked down the isle by a very proud papa and brother in 2011. Her husband, Scott, has been a part of our family for several years now and we've known he was a keeper from the moment they met, but he truly stole her father's and my hearts when we found him sitting on our front porch waiting for our return one stormy July night, more than a year before their wedding. It was on this night that he asked our permission to marry our girl. If there's anyone out there who doubts the survival&nbsp;of chivalry in the present, I can assure you it continues on in the heart of our soft spoken son-in-law.<br />&nbsp; &nbsp; <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uStq8jdzKZY/TzKGmODBSHI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HHzRnRbQX2A/s1600/Wedding+Chelsea+&amp;+Scott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uStq8jdzKZY/TzKGmODBSHI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HHzRnRbQX2A/s1600/Wedding+Chelsea+&amp;+Scott.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpB8XDn8RKQ/TzKqcgd0SmI/AAAAAAAAAes/JC83AD65frc/s1600/Wedding+Jake+%2526+I.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpB8XDn8RKQ/TzKqcgd0SmI/AAAAAAAAAes/JC83AD65frc/s400/Wedding+Jake+%2526+I.jpg" width="319" /></a>In the past year Jake and I have looked on as one of our brood shifted to her adult life with her&nbsp;soul-mate;&nbsp;another marched confidently down the isle, leaving childhood behind as he graduated from high school and transitioned on to college; and our baby became a teen. Corey has waited patiently,&nbsp;unwavering in his goals, those that he so confidently professed over four years ago to a team of educators who were less than convinced of the possibility of their reality.<br /><br /><span style="font-family: inherit;">I would be lying if I finished this post by telling you that I share his confidence in our success. It's more than just a little intimidating for me to think that we've arrived at the next chapter in our lives. I've wavered back and forth over the course of the past year, searching for answers to my questions of how he (we) will realize those goals on more than just <span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">a superficial level. Each time I veer from the initial course I find myself &nbsp;quietly&nbsp;shepherded back by forces beyond my understanding.&nbsp;</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fgc2SdQPTDw/TzLERsIn9pI/AAAAAAAAAe0/n1kCElmT1jc/s1600/Wedding+Mom+&amp;+Corey.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fgc2SdQPTDw/TzLERsIn9pI/AAAAAAAAAe0/n1kCElmT1jc/s320/Wedding+Mom+&amp;+Corey.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br />More recently, my eldest son came to me anxious that I understand what had been wearing on his mind. It's not unusual on those occasions where he's obsessing about his agenda for the day that his words tumble out, the same sentence repeated over and over until I hit on precisely the answer he's looking for. On this day his concerns were far from our ordinary discussions of saddling zebras and searching for his favorite video that has&nbsp;disappeared&nbsp;from iTunes. <br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">On this day what was on his mind came out with a clarity that could not be misunderstood. "What are we doing next Mom?" I answered him with a basic mom-like response ticking off a list of chores that I was determined be accomplished, brushing off his anxiousness for answers as ordinary to our routine. "What's next?" a common question in which the answer is needed to help him transition and&nbsp;maneuver through his day.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">His next utterance was not a question but instead a statement that was meant to be reckoned. "Listen to me. I've been waiting for you, Mom. I'm counting on you." No arguing there, he'd been waiting on me for four years.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">So, for those wondering "What are we doing next?" - We're gonna be farming. Not the half million dollar tractor and endless use of chemical kind of farming that has become common place in today's high tech world that we live in --&nbsp;&nbsp;but a kinder, gentler to the earth and all who live there kind of farming that has been all but forgotten. &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;</span><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">It's time this "late bloomer" begin listening to the old soul she lives with. He's been patient long enough.&nbsp;</span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: Georgia, &quot;Times New Roman&quot;, serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 17px;">&nbsp;&nbsp;</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uStq8jdzKZY/TzKGmODBSHI/AAAAAAAAAeM/HHzRnRbQX2A/s1600/Wedding+Chelsea+&amp;+Scott.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left;"></a></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-89967087427338650682012-02-01T12:29:00.000-06:002012-02-05T10:09:39.938-06:00Farm Fresh<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gghKCFZ0UME/TymCu-h_W9I/AAAAAAAAAd4/cNlSIKDFB5Y/s1600/spring+chicks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="409" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gghKCFZ0UME/TymCu-h_W9I/AAAAAAAAAd4/cNlSIKDFB5Y/s640/spring+chicks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />The unusually spring-like days we’ve been experiencing this week have left me dreaming of all the wondrous events that will unfold in the not so distant future at home and on the farm. Mom’s hens are sorely confused by the mild temps and determined to start setting – even though mid-February is not the ideal time for spring chicks. Their behavior has led to conversations of what breeds will be retained to the flock this year, and what will be added. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />My personal favorite, Araucana, were first imported into the United States sometime during the late 1920s or early 1930s and were bred primarily for their novel blue eggs (although green and pink are colors also produced). The blue shell color is a genetically dominant trait. This means that when the Araucana breed is crossed with another breed of domestic chicken the female offspring will always lay blue or tinted eggs. They are a dual purpose bird that has a well-fleshed carcass. The hens are good layers of medium-sized eggs… Mother Nature’s all natural Easter eggs. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />Black Sex Link, are one of Mom’s favorite breeds that have made the cut. They are produced using a Barred Rock hen and Rhode Island Red rooster. Both sexes hatch out black, but the males have a white dot on their heads, making it easy to sex the chicks at hatching. Pullets feather out black with some red in their neck feathers. This cross makes for incredibly vigorous chicks, rugged brown egg laying hens, and good cockerel fryers. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />The Black Austalorp’s have proven themselves to be reliable layers of brown eggs and will be included in this Spring’s chick order. The breed was developed in Australia, where farmers needed a breed that would lay consistently even when the weather was very hot. The foundation stock for Black Austalorp’s were Black Orpingtons imported from England, and the first of the new breed in the United States were imported in the early 1920s. Their color is of course black, but in the sunlight you can see hints of purple and green, making them a very beautiful chicken. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />I’ve got my heart set on adding a few Maran’s to the flock this year. They are known as "chocolate eggers" meaning their eggs are a deep chocolate brown color. Eggs of the Black Copper and the Silver Cuckoo Maran are usually the darkest of all, and are highly sought after. If you value a colorful egg basket like I do, Marans are a must for your flock. Silver Cuckoo is the most available variety in North America and can be purchased from the majority of the main hatcheries.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b><br /></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b>As always we have farm fresh eggs for $2.00 a dozen.</b> The girls are free range and hormone free, making them happy chicks that lay healthy eggs for us!<o:p></o:p></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-83896165028012112342012-01-28T01:50:00.000-06:002012-02-05T10:10:33.863-06:00Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tqtHg1xXI3Q/TyOnqYbPlvI/AAAAAAAAAc4/7S6Litmj3II/s1600/Christmas+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tqtHg1xXI3Q/TyOnqYbPlvI/AAAAAAAAAc4/7S6Litmj3II/s640/Christmas+2011.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The relevance of time is specific to the moment. There are all sorts of inspirational quotes depicting scenarios of its importance, and insignificance. Four years seemed a relatively lengthy segment of time when I was contemplating my return to school and yet what took place in those four years flashed by in an instant. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We grew…</span>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-39348142338973234422012-01-28T01:44:00.000-06:002012-02-05T10:11:12.535-06:00September 2006<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7X5iKJj85c8/TyOmbSyRaUI/AAAAAAAAAcw/2O5j99Ru7T4/s1600/Labor+Day+2006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7X5iKJj85c8/TyOmbSyRaUI/AAAAAAAAAcw/2O5j99Ru7T4/s640/Labor+Day+2006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">September 2006 - the fall before I returned to school.</div><div align="left">﻿</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-51260823261961667982010-12-11T16:17:00.000-06:002011-04-02T19:41:34.400-05:00You Are The Best Thing<div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/TQP4Dh-ddaI/AAAAAAAAAbE/A-mL-wC4VC0/s1600/Tree+Hunting+2010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><iframe frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/vJ3xTjvj9tw?fs=1" width="425"></iframe>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-88456994110225509542010-12-05T19:20:00.000-06:002012-02-05T10:11:52.233-06:00Great Spirits<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/TPw7esW-gxI/AAAAAAAAAaU/zXeJ0nqyV_U/s1600/Aaaah%2BNature.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547374239503254290" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/TPw7esW-gxI/AAAAAAAAAaU/zXeJ0nqyV_U/s320/Aaaah%2BNature.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 240px;" /></a> <br />On occasion there is need to classify individuals according to their level of learning. One would not place a seven-year-old in a college calculus class (or me for that matter) nor would they slot an adult who has not yet learned to read in a class of first graders. Logic tells us a child would not flourish in a class where he has not yet mastered the basics and an adult would feel isolated and perhaps even demeaned if placed in a classroom of children. <br /><br />If we consider individuals with physical and intellectual challenges the law states they should be included in every aspect of life. We make our public spaces accessible for those who physically would not be able to enter if there were not alterations to building structures, children are required to be educated in the least restrictive environment with their same age peers, and individuals of every cultural, socioeconomic, and sexual orientation are to be treated with respect and given equal opportunity in both work and social settings. Professional, educational, and community inclusion is not merely a privilege for a select few, but also hinges on laws which have been in place for over two decades. <br /><br />In my world… a world where my eldest son’s unending questions of “What’s next Mom?” are a part of my daily routine, inclusion is priority. His questions in part are born of his need for answers but of equal importance to help him transition. I have spent the majority of his twenty-one years advocating his right to be a part of ‘our’ world and yet if I were to be completely honest, I have likewise redesigned and relegated myself to his. <br /><br />If you explore the meaning of the word ‘relegate’ you will find three entries: 1. demote somebody or something 2. exile somebody, and 3. hand something on / or to pass something on to somebody for that person to deal with it or provide information about it. <br /><br />I am here to provide information… <br /><br />Acceptance and understanding are imperative on all levels for equality to flourish. <br /><br />“…There’s no lesser than. There’s just different from. It isn't just great minds that matter. It’s great spirits too.” <br /><br />Dr. Bruce Blumberg <br />As quoted by Ian Brown in “The Boy in the Moon”.Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-34657131411097701432009-09-21T10:50:00.001-05:002009-09-21T11:21:35.173-05:00A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words<img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTI1MzU*ODA*NDczNCZwdD*xMjUzNTQ4MjQ2MjY1JnA9Mzg2MzYxJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTEmbz**OWE5YjA1ZjhjMWE*ZWM1YmE1ODU5ODcwY2Y2MWE*ZSZvZj*w.gif" /><div style="width:480px; text-align: center;"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w966.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w966.photobucket.com/albums/ae146/Jaquet/More to Come/b4aeb4aa.pbw" height="360" width="480"><a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a><a href="http://s966.photobucket.com/albums/ae146/Jaquet/More%20to%20Come/?action=view&current=b4aeb4aa.pbw" target="_blank"><img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="float:left;border-width: 0;" ></a></div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-29853731425632314232009-03-31T10:00:00.000-05:002009-03-31T10:59:08.057-05:00Retarded?<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SdIxN2wrGBI/AAAAAAAAALU/av1x0G3SCiQ/s1600-h/Corey+Senior+Pic.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319368223985702930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SdIxN2wrGBI/AAAAAAAAALU/av1x0G3SCiQ/s320/Corey+Senior+Pic.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>This picture is one of my favorites taken by a gifted photographer during Corey's senior year photo shoot. In an attempt to capture a more traditional shot he began teasing and made comment there was a "stud" in the room, then asking Corey if he knew who it might be. Corey's response was, "Who me?" The result was his capturing the very essence of my son.<br />You may be wondering where the title of this post is drawn from. Today many of us, who’s lives have been touched by a person with intellectual challenges, are taking a stand against the over and misuse of the word retarded. The clinical definition of the word has followed my child since birth. There is nothing humorous about it nor is it ugly. Many times over the past twenty years I have climbed up on my soap box after hearing someone callously use the term and many times I have turned away, weary from the battle. On this day, I will once again take a stand. At our house the “short bus” is what is referred to by my son as the “comfy bus”. It carries him and his wonderfully diverse friends to and from school. The “Special Olympics” is not a quip term to describe ones lack of ability in a particular sport, but a competition which is held with reverence and honor. And the word retarded? We have expanded and more creative vocabularies which do not have room for tired misused words of the like.<br />Think before you speak folks. Words sometimes hurt.</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-54118029844733826212009-03-31T09:52:00.000-05:002009-03-31T09:53:47.677-05:00Organic?<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SdIuaMddBNI/AAAAAAAAALE/EgJwgW2Lsx4/s1600-h/daffodil.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319365137434215634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 160px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 120px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SdIuaMddBNI/AAAAAAAAALE/EgJwgW2Lsx4/s320/daffodil.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Is there really a benefit to eating organic food? </div><div>Visit Black Hawk Organics' blog and join the debate!</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-78786989126660950812009-03-29T10:16:00.000-05:002009-04-04T21:41:04.075-05:00Dream Big<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Sc-RPI1Tc-I/AAAAAAAAAKg/wLRLn5lx-JY/s1600-h/Birgett%27s+Beach.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318629374202967010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 140px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 104px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Sc-RPI1Tc-I/AAAAAAAAAKg/wLRLn5lx-JY/s320/Birgett%27s+Beach.jpg" border="0" /></a> Today's words are not my own and are the lyrics to "Dream Big" by Ryan Shupe and the Rubber Band. I spend a lot of time listening to music and books on tape on my trek to school so I'm sharing what has left a recent impression on me. If you haven't already, check out "Tuesdays with Morrie" by Mitch Albom". (My last weeks listening.) I can't even claim this weeks photograph, it was taken by my friend Bridgett Mork.<br /><br />Dream Big<br />When you cry be sure to dry your eyes 'Cause better days are sure to come And when you smile be sure to smile wide Don't let them know that they have won And when you walk, walk with pride Don't show the hurt inside Because the pain will soon be gone<br />And when you dream, dream big As big as the ocean blue 'Cause when you dream it might come true When you dream, dream big<br />When you laugh be sure to laugh out loud 'Cause it will carry all your cares away And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself And it'll help you feel okay And when you pray, pray for strength To help you carry on When the troubles come your way<br />And when you dream, dream big As big as the ocean blue 'Cause when you dream it might come true When you dream, dream big<br />When you laugh be sure to laugh out loud 'Cause it will carry all your cares away And when you see, see the beauty all around and in yourself And it'll help you feel okay And when you pray, pray for strength To help you carry on When the troubles come your way<br />And when you dream, dream big As big as the ocean blue 'Cause when you dream it might come true When you dream, dream bigCarla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-17306374765311951652009-03-23T09:32:00.001-05:002009-04-04T21:40:20.065-05:00Patience<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Scedtx56sFI/AAAAAAAAAJo/66NssRP_qzA/s1600-h/Oz+3-09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316391294950092882" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 265px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Scedtx56sFI/AAAAAAAAAJo/66NssRP_qzA/s320/Oz+3-09.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Puppies are like young children, sometimes impatient with priorities in the moment and nothing long term of importance. This is how our Ozzy is, his world being about the here and now with no tolerance for waiting, it’s ALL about Ozzy. It occurred to me recently that Ozzy is teaching Corey (as well as the rest of us) about the attribute of patience. What he lacks out of inexperience we are learning to wait, ever so patiently, for. We are educating each other. Yesterday, while waiting for Ozzy and his ever so patient mentor, Molly, to finish their outdoor duties, Corey yelled out the window for them to hurry. His insistence causing me to suggest he be patient, which precipitated, what I consider, a rather profound conversation between my son and I. “Corey, you need to be patient.” and then rattling on as I sometimes do, not expecting a response, “Patience is a virtue.” What came next was a simple yet brilliant question that I did not anticipate, “What does that mean?” Seizing the opportunity I said, “Patience is good.” To which he replied, “Yes, patience is good, Mom.” This was a first for us, a question from my child, born of an abstract comment, in which I answered and he clearly understood. Yes, patience is a virtue…</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-63054349910883537962009-03-22T17:19:00.000-05:002009-03-22T17:30:39.944-05:00Transition<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Sca64bfyftI/AAAAAAAAAJg/KWX0LvRMx6M/s1600-h/CIMG0469.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316141888773979858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/Sca64bfyftI/AAAAAAAAAJg/KWX0LvRMx6M/s320/CIMG0469.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My son’s eighteenth, and final, IEP was Thursday. Not thinking beyond one year I went prepared to defend his right to arrive at school on time (his bus is chronically 20 – 40 minutes late), discuss educationally relevant skills to be worked on, and the importance of increasing his ability to express himself as he prepares to enter his adult life. Introductions were made and everyone was smiling as Corey’s sweet, young teacher, who we all adore, began with, “Do you plan to have Corey participate in the graduation ceremony next spring?” What? Graduation? Again? Next spring? When did this happen? How did this happen? I had been preparing for this moment for the past four years and the words still left me feeling like I’d been hit by a speeding car while crossing the street for a casual conversation with the neighbor.<br /><br />In the past I have considered myself a person who embraced change and met obstacles with innovative fervor, but on this occasion as I began to fully comprehend the magnitude of the discussion, I am for a moment, left feeling inept and overwhelmed. Is the ground work we have laid enough for Corey? For us? The anxiety I have felt with each transition throughout his childhood comes creeping back and I find myself feeling foolish over the false sense of security I had been recently harboring.<br /><br />I imagine most public schools are fairly comparable in their philosophies involving their special needs students, providing the minimum required and never exploring the possibility of there being choices beyond the typical. Corey’s school, his “Corey College”, consists of a self contained classroom with the primary focus being that of working on vocational skills and independence. His teacher is pleasant and caring, the older sister of a young man with special needs; this is her first teaching assignment and the affection she feels toward her students is obvious. Her youth brings with it an enthusiasm, sometimes missing for those whose profession has become routine.<br /><br />This meeting, Corey’s transition IEP, was to discuss as well as document not only his educational needs for the following school year but also his needs as an adult. The paperwork, filled out before we arrived, stated my son with an IQ of 56 and minimal ability to express him self had no limitations indicating need for outside support as an adult. I wish I could say the disappointment and frustration I felt on this day was born simply from Corey’s teacher’s inexperience but unfortunately the seniors involved knew no more than she and in the end offered little advice.<br /><br />Documents will be changed and with experience comes enlightenment but the “what if”’ still nags at my conscience. What if it had not been me but another parent who did not understand the consequence of what had been left out of their child’s portfolio? As it is the advice I was given at Corey’s “preadmission screening” four years ago was incorrect and he will be on a waiting list for at least five years before he may receive services and even then funding is limited. What if we had not planned for his adult life to be hinged on family support? I already know the answer. He would have been at home alone, just as several of his friends currently are, waiting…</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-63199532876145838282009-03-13T06:25:00.000-05:002009-04-04T21:38:10.018-05:00Blackbird<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SbpECv3haCI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hXOC6kt4qsQ/s1600-h/blackbird.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312633524436690978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 296px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SbpECv3haCI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/hXOC6kt4qsQ/s320/blackbird.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">I woke up this morning to this tune flitting through my mind. I have'nt posted in a while so I thought I'd share. It's such a pretty song, I think written by Paul McCartney. So many meanings...<br /></div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">Blackbird singing in the dead of night.<br />Take these broken wings and learn to fly.<br />All your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise.<br /><br />Black bird singing in the dead of night.<br />Take these sunken eyes and learn to see<br />all your life you were only waiting for this moment to be free.<br /><br />Blackbird fly,<br />Blackbird fly<br />Into the light of the dark black night.<br />Blackbird fly,<br />Blackbird fly Into the light of the dark black night.<br /><br />Blackbird singing in the dead of night.<br />Take these broken wings and learn to fly.<br />All your lifeYou were only waiting for this moment to arise,<br />oh you were only waiting for this moment to arise,<br />oh you were only waiting for this moment to arise</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-15997950543304352012008-08-22T23:59:00.000-05:002008-08-23T00:45:28.196-05:0025 things about me...I guess if Jessica has succumbed to peer pressure I will too.<br /><br />25 things about me…<br /><br />It’s midnight and I’m eating a blueberry pop tart. It could be worse; it’s at least the organic variety.<br />I have been married as many years as not.<br />Our beagle likes to wake me up at 5:30 A.M. to tell me she’s thirsty. (I’m a mean “mom” and won’t let her have a big drink before bed time.)<br />I wanted to grow up to be an artist when I was in the 7th grade.<br />I’ve had 15 minutes of fame as the artist I wanted to grow up to be and didn’t like it all that much.<br />I have a hard time keeping silent about things I feel are unjust.<br />I like Obama.<br />I’m indecisive and it’s been my life’s work to correct that character flaw. I’m getting better… or maybe not… I just can’t decide! (c;<br />My husband’s name is Roger but I call him Jake. Long story…<br />My parents are divorced.<br />I am the eldest of four.<br />Lucky Charms is my favorite breakfast cereal unless I’m feeling like a grown up and then I’ll eat Special K with red berries.<br />I grew up on a farm.<br />I love the DIY channel.<br />Phenomenon is one of my favorite movies.<br />My eyes are green as well as my favorite color.<br />I prefer contacts to glasses.<br />I don’t like to watch sports unless my kids are participating in them.<br />I played the clarinet in the high school band.<br />I am one year away from having a degree in horticulture.<br />I like antiques and things that have a history.<br />Ice tea is my favorite drink outside an occasional Corona w/ lime.<br />My shoes are size eleven. It’s my dad’s fault; he’s 6’ 8” and wears a size sixteen!<br />I believe we need to take better of our earth and all its creatures.<br />I believe nice matters.Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-25980518190685155872008-06-21T23:40:00.001-05:002008-06-22T00:08:28.803-05:00Too Busy?<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SF3YDhIadfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/alhkbGIPchs/s1600-h/Got+Milk.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214561498509768178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SF3YDhIadfI/AAAAAAAAAFc/alhkbGIPchs/s320/Got+Milk.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Where have I been? Planting, weeding, watering, pondering, watching, creating, landscaping… The list is far too long and it took a nine year old boy with a milk mustache to recently yank me back to my reality with his comment of, “I was going to ask you for help but you were too busy.” <ouch> Today we planted his lilies, which had been waiting patiently in pots for their place in the garden, allowing them to bloom and my youngest son to beam at the fruit of his labor.<br />So, yes I’m still here, Terri. I just needed a gentle reminder to not get lost in the mechanics of my purpose and remember that sharing the process is of equal or even greater merit than achieving the goal.</div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-15261680689038779062008-04-25T21:17:00.000-05:002008-04-25T22:29:05.634-05:00Seasons<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SBKQ5WpETnI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zQ2SlaqrQzk/s1600-h/CIMG1053.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5193372635316375154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/SBKQ5WpETnI/AAAAAAAAAFM/zQ2SlaqrQzk/s320/CIMG1053.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>It's spring and another planting season is here. Corey is watering the tulips that were planted the day our dear friend and neighbor was informed her battle with cancer, only recently discovered, had been futile. A sunny October day... just a matter of months and yet it seems a life time. I recall telling her that day I wished her another growing season -- fellow lover of nature that she was. My wish for her was not to be, as her final day came before the first of winter.</div><div>Today as Corey watered I thought of our friend and how I missed her. Some things so a part of our character, retired elementary teacher as she was, I could almost hear her voice exclaiming to him the wonderful job he had executed. And so she will live on in our hearts, our dear friend, Ruby, who recognized the potential in every child. </div><div> </div>Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-89301175317342217522008-03-09T10:33:00.000-05:002008-03-09T12:40:31.400-05:00What's in a Name?<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/R9QHty3SwXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/9f7kt0MWQIk/s1600-h/Wild+Hare+Farm.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175770355084738930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/R9QHty3SwXI/AAAAAAAAAE8/9f7kt0MWQIk/s320/Wild+Hare+Farm.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />What's in a name? As parents we put a lot of thought into our children's names. We say them out loud over and over, considering everything from the reaction others may have upon hearing it to the way it would look on an office door. We consider family and tradition, our heritage, personal likes and dislikes, and frequency of use… "Aunt Hazel would be so proud if we named our girl after her... Hazel Nutt. Oops, scratch that!!" "No, not Eddie! He sat behind me in the fourth grade and constantly picked his nose!” Well maybe not, but you get my drift.<br /><br />As I drive almost an hour, one direction, to class these days (What happens when you live in the middle of no where and school is south of nothing.) I’m allotted a great deal of thinking time, which for me is a good thing as personal thoughts seem a minimum at home. No less than three people generally requesting my time at once -- topics ranging from Day Light Savings Time, to saddling a T-Rex (Yes, it can be done with enough Velcro!), and why we can’t have soda with our lunch, just to name a few. Oh my, now I’m rambling, back to the original topic…<br /><br />This past Friday, while traveling home, my thoughts skewed toward the importance of a name, especially when it involves necessity of patronage to encourage growth, and suddenly I got a “wild hair” to reconsider the name of our nursery. As I mentioned, public opinion has tendency to sway our decisions and in business can be critical, and so begins my informal “pole” (sorry, inside joke) or poll… Keeping in mind my play on words I’ll leave you with your three choices to vote from: 1.) Wild Hare Farm, 2.) Gray Hare Farm, 3.) Late Bloomer’s Nursery.<br />Don’t be shy! Voice your opinion and we’ll see if it compares to friends and family who have already voted.Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9208890123822821129.post-5711868323931662482008-02-12T11:10:00.001-06:002008-02-12T11:14:56.137-06:00Thirty Years<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/R7HT-nuNr2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/gvZCFA1ldek/s1600-h/amish+corey+(2).jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_liKUD3woJGg/R7HT-nuNr2I/AAAAAAAAAEw/gvZCFA1ldek/s320/amish+corey+(2).jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166143320338837346" /></a><br />Almost thirty years before this photo was taken of Corey and Buddy, a seventeen year old girl and her big sorrel gelding were striking a similar pose for her “senior picture”, as she approached her high school graduation. A girl, who at the time, had her mind set on the next leg of her journey being that of her as an animal science major (more specifically, equine) at a neighboring community college, not quite sure of where her aspirations would lead her. The only goal she was positive of, being that of securing a vocation which would leave her embedded in the only life she had ever known and had grown up loving. Life on a farm.<br />Circumstances sometimes force a shift in our goals, changing needs and blurring aspirations, altering the course of our lives. What rarely changes through out it all are our passions. The parts of our personality defining our character, often times leading us in directions we aren’t even conscience of at the time. <br />If you’re wondering by now where all of my philosophical meanderings are leading to in this post, it’s to the topic of karma. A subject of little consideration to me in the past. But while striving toward current objectives, I reflect on the conditions that have brought me here, and find it worthy of contemplation when considering the future. <br />You see, I am back to where I began. The college I attend, now as a horticulture major, seeking the education I consider necessary to secure my goal, is that same little community college I aspired to attend almost thirty years ago. The goal has not changed as I still love the farm and the promise of its existence. My passion of nature, and the wonderment it brings, handed down to my children.<br />Still wondering where karma comes in to play? As fate would have it, the head of the horticulture department where I now attend hinges his teaching practices on a philosophy of student led learning. The younger sibling of a man with special needs, his goal for his undergraduates to leave his instruction with knowledge detailed to their own requirements as well as curriculum specific. And if that’s not convincing enough, my Ag Chemicals instructor is the same man who would have supervised my education in equine science all those thirty years ago. Whether by my own hand or that of fate, late bloomer that I am, it seems I am now exactly where I was meant to be.Carla Jaquethttps://plus.google.com/117192309284972074242noreply@blogger.com0